


Fighting Blind

by DawnsEternalLight



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Batdad, Batman - Freeform, Gen, Robin - Freeform, blind for a day prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 11:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7615708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian's temporarily blinded and decides to keep fighting anyway. Once the fight's over he has to deal with a worried Batman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fighting Blind

The explosion sent Damian flying. Disoriented, he ended up sprawled on the ground, Batman landing somewhere beside him. His head hurt, his ears were ringing, and everything had gone black. He blinked and blinked again. He couldn’t see. His fingers brushed over of one of his eyes and confirmed they were open.

He grit his teeth, he’d deal with this later. Firefly was still out there, still attacking innocents. He could fight blind, he’d been trained to handle anything, including this, Grayson had allowed him to keep his hood because he’d claimed he could handle this kind of situation. This was child’s play.

He focused on his other senses, rubbing his ears to scare away the last of the ringing from the explosion. He could hear the fight resuming between his father and Firefly, and he made his way forward, mentally recalling where things had been moments before. The explosion had shaken up some of it, but he was fine.

“Robin, stay back!” his father called, but he could hear the struggle still going on and disregarded the order as soon as it was given.

He flung himself at Firefly, flipping the man to the ground and pinning him there for the moment. There was something in the man’s hand and Damian recognized it as a second explosive device moments before it went off.

Smaller than the last one, it was easy to knock out of the way allowing it to explode harmlessly away from anyone. Firefly used the distraction to fling Damian away from him. He righted himself and landed, trying to get his bearings on where Firefly and his Father might be.

“Behind you, Robin!”

Damian ducked, and could feel the whoosh of air over him as the punch missed. The next second the presence was knocked away from him as Batman charged over. A few moments later he could hear his father standing from where he’d finished disarming the villain.

“I told you to stay back. Jumping in was reckless and against my orders,” Bruce sounded angry, but Damian’s head was spinning.

Now that the danger had passed he was feeling the brunt of his injuries from the attack. He swayed on his feet and felt a hand catch him, “Robin? What’s the matter?”

“-s nothing,” Damian slurred, “Just my head,” and his vision, but he wasn’t going to bother his Father with that just yet. He was sure it was a form of temporary blindness induced by head trauma.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

He would ask that question. Damian resisted the urge to reach out and feel for the answer, “Two?” he guessed.

He could hear the swish of his father shaking his head, “I wasn’t holding any up, look at me.”

Damian tried to look in his direction, he really did, but his head hurt too much for him to be sure of where his father’s voice had come from. A gentle hand tilted his chin and turned his head in what was the right direction.

“Robin, can you see me?”

Damian blinked, hoping beyond hope that his eyesight might magically return, “Robin?” Bruce tried again.

“No,” he admitted.

“We’re going home,” there was a finality to his father’s voice that told Damian not to argue, he did anyway.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re the furthest thing from fine.”

“I’ve been the furthest thing from fine, this isn’t even close.”

Damian was sure his father was giving him the look. The one he reserved especially for him when he was being overly difficult and petulant, and for a moment he was thankful he couldn’t see it. His father seemed to realize that his son couldn’t see the glare and spoke up.

“You’re in no shape to continue tonight. We’re heading back,” and as if to emphasize his point Bruce lifted Damian into his arms.

Damian squirmed, trying to get away, “I refuse to allow this inconvenience to stop us from finishing patrol. I can handle myself.”

“And I refuse to let you get hurt again. You almost died during that fight and you didn’t even know it. If I hadn’t been there you would have,” Bruce was walking with him and Damian was quickly finding out there was little to do against his father’s strong grip.

“But you were there, and you will be if we finish patrol together,” he tried.

“This is non-negotiable, Robin.”

The feeling of being carried while blind was making Damian dizzy, or maybe that was just the splitting headache he still had, either way he gave in at last and allowed his father to take him back to the Batmobile.

He had to close his eyes while they were driving, hoping that would help with the dizziness. It didn’t. His father kept one hand on his shoulder the entire time they were in the car, whether it was to steady Damian or for comfort he wasn’t sure, either way he was thankful for it.

When they made it back to the cave Bruce insisted again on carrying Damian, and this time he didn’t argue. It was all he could do to keep from passing out at this point, arguing was as out of the question as him walking was.

Alfred was ready for them, having been briefed on the situation on the drive over. Bruce laid him on the medical gurney and took the stool next to him as Alfred began a scan of his injuries.

“What were you thinking, running into a fight blind?” Bruce asked, his tone more worried than condemning.

“You needed the help,” Damian said simply.

“I needed you to be safe.”

“I was,” Damian insisted, “You didn’t even realize I had a problem until after the fight was over.”

Bruce sighed, “That’s not the point,” he brushed a strand of Damian’s hair off his forehead and let his hand slide through his son’s hair, “Any number of things could have gone wrong and you wouldn’t have known. Besides, you had no idea what kind of injury you’d sustained, what if you passed out in the middle of the fight?”

Damian hadn’t thought about that; he’d been too worried about finishing what they’d started. He’d pushed his limits and hadn’t found them yet, but what his father said made sense. He would have made things a lot worse if he’d passed out while fighting.

“I’m sorry, Father.”

“I know you are,” Bruce hummed, “But you need to remember that jumping into things unprepared is dangerous. You have a bad habit of leaping first and thinking later,” Damian could hear the smile in his father’s voice and knew what was coming next, “You probably get that from too much time spent around Dick.”

“The point is,” Bruce continued, “When I tell you to stay out of something, or if you get injured like this, listen to me and stay out of the fight, I’ve already lost you once. I don’t want that to happen again.”

There was something about hearing his father say those words. He didn’t have to see his face to feel the impact of them, didn’t have to look into his eyes to know how his father still felt regret over Damian’s death. It was there in his voice, the pain lingering long after the words faded.

Damian wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find the words. Since when had his father gotten so emotional?

Bruce leaned down and brushed a kiss on Damian’s forehead, “If I had my way, you wouldn’t be out there fighting at all, but I’ve learned better than that at this point.”  

Damian grinned, “I’m glad you’re starting to see things my way, Father.”

“Who said it was you who changed my mind?”

“Don’t tell me it was, Drake,” Damian scowled.

Alfred cleared his throat from across the room and Bruce chuckled, “You can’t see it, but Alfred’s trying to look hurt that you wouldn’t assume it was his fault.”

“Sorry, Pennyworth. Thank you for working so hard to change Father’s mind.”

“It’s called self-preservation, Damian. Speaking of which, your father is right. I’m getting tired of patching you boys up every time you leap before you look. Or in tonight’s case, leap while unable to look.”

Damian couldn’t stop the flush of embarrassment; he was starting to see the extreme folly in his earlier actions, “Indeed,” he said, and cleared his throat, “So, Pennyworth what’s the extent of my injuries?” 

He let Alfred describe how he’d hit his head in just the right place, and the blindness would last a day or so, but that he should stay off patrol for longer than that just in case and smiled, happy and thankful for his family. 


End file.
